The Unexpected Series (in progress)
by Jana Kay
Summary: After 'Sanctuary,' Kate speaks to Faith in prison. Their subsequent and completely unexpected friendship is sorely needed when Faith, to her anger and dismay, becomes the last resort in stopping a demon underlord. Just how far will Faith go to save a li
1. Expect the Unexpected

TITLE: Expect the Unexpected - Part 1  
SERIES: The Unexpected Series  
AUTHOR: Jana Kay   
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au   
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and 20th Century Fox. No profit is being made. The storyline does however, belong to me.  
RATING: R  
CLASSIFICATION: K/F  
SPOILERS: S1 up through to 'Sanctuary' in A:tS, and then breaks away from canon after that.   
SUMMARY: Against her better judgment and detective instincts, Kate speaks to Faith while the Slayer is in prison. Their subsequent and completely unexpected friendship is sorely needed when Faith, to her anger and dismay, becomes the last resort in stopping a demon underlord. Just how far will Faith go to save a life and earn her redemption?   
NOTES: Kate POV  
  
*****  
  
I lean back in my desk chair and stretch as I try to stifle a yawn. It's late at night on a Friday, but I don't exactly have much of a social life to speak of so I stayed back late, hoping to catch up on some of the never-ending paperwork that manages to pile itself up on my desk between cases.  
  
I scratch the back of my neck lightly as I straighten myself up again, looking around the station as I do.   
  
There are only two other people at their desks besides me.   
  
We're the workaholics. The one's who have pretty much no life outside the grind of work.   
  
At 11:07 at night, the station seems unnaturally quiet, but it's really just my imagination. I grew up in LA. I'm used to noise and commotion. The clatter of trains and the squeal of tires as they take the street turns too fast. Add to that, there's usually always a radio playing somewhere around the station, and the chatter of voices carrying on conversations around me.   
  
But with only two other people around, and both being too busy with their work to look at me, there isn't exactly much talk to be had.  
  
I sigh as I look back down at the open file in front of me. The past week had been rough. Rougher than usual. Violence seemed to be escalating on the streets, and more murders were occurring than I had the stomach for, but I refused to take time off. There were already too many people looking at me as though I was some poor little lost girl. I could feel the whispers going on behind my back about how sooner or later, I'd crack under the pressure. Bend and break.   
  
Apparently, I wasn't giving myself the proper amount of time to grieve. And hey, I'm a woman right, so after death occurs, I'm meant to be really fragile.   
  
Bullshit. That is just plain bullshit.  
  
My father's murder rocked the police community, and finding the killer has been a top priority for many of my senior associates, but so far they're coming up empty handed. Of course, I already know that. I also already know that the killer has been found and justice has been dealt out, just not in the way the rest of my partners expect. And there is no way I can tell them and think they'd understand. They'd think I was crazy.  
  
I thought I was crazy for a while too.   
  
My father's death still hurts though, I won't deny it. It's only been just over two months since he died, and there was just so much stuff that was left unresolved between us. Things I'd been hoping we'd work out eventually, you know, sometime before he had a heart attack or I was killed on the job. Whichever came first.   
  
I don't think he ever knew just how much I loved him, no matter how distant our relationship was, and inside, there's a part of me that never really knew the extent of love he had for me, which makes me feel really sad.   
  
But....  
  
His killers are dead. I can be thankful for that much. Then again, if it hadn't have been for Angel, I'd probably be dead too. I'd only been expecting vampires, not that huge....*thing*....that walked around the corner after I'd staked the guy in front of me.   
  
Then Angel appeared from out of nowhere like he always does, seeming to know exactly where to turn up, and he had a huge axe with him. Truthfully, at that point in the game, I felt like an idiot just armed with a gun and a stake. He saved my life and helped me avenge my father, but when he tried to talk to me afterwards, I just snapped.   
  
I know in his own way, he was trying to comfort me, but I wasn't ready for comfort yet. Then I was rude to him, and really didn't speak to him for a while after that, even though I wanted to.   
  
Believe me, I wanted to apologise, but I didn't know how. I've never been good with the saying sorry part. Then I let it go for too long, and I'm just too uncomfortable around him now. What would I say to him anyway?   
  
Your kind killed my father, but I don't hold anything against you because, hey, you're different?   
  
Well, it'd be the truth. And Angel *is* different. He's proven himself enough to me, actually, more than he had to, but I still don't think that little confession would be welcome by him. It would probably just make him feel like more of an outsider than he already is in the city.   
  
A vampire with a soul is a rarity. He's probably one of a kind.   
  
I shiver as I remember some of the excerpts about Angel's soulless self from one of the books I read, way back when Angel proved to me that nightmares were real.   
  
I'd really hate to meet that version of him, but I know Angel's a completely different person to the demon. I spoke very briefly to Cordelia about it, after the shock wore off and the knowledge sunk in, but you could tell she really wasn't too eager to answer my questions. So I left it alone.   
  
Seeing Angel actually does remind me of my father's death. Just a little bit. Maybe because he's a vampire, or maybe just because he was there when I burst into my father's apartment, I really don't know. But he does remind me. He brings up a little of the residual ache of anger and sadness at a wasted loss of life, that I'm almost convinced now isn't ever going to go away. And I actually hadn't seen Angel until....  
  
I look down at the file in front of me.  
  
Until Faith showed up.  
  
I sigh again as I flip through the written statements, photographs and a signed confession.   
  
There's just something about this girl that troubles me. Her age for one. She's only eighteen. And the list of things she's done, crimes she's committed just seem to go on.   
  
She actually confessed to more things than we had her on, which was a big surprise. But by far the biggest, was actually having her show up and confess in the first place.  
  
I know Angel had a part in that, I just know it.   
  
As irrational as I seemed when I had him cuffed and brought to the station, I was more angry because he hadn't trusted me to help with her. He hadn't trusted me to listen to the things that he had to say about her, and why she had to be handled carefully, and because of that, Wolfram & Hart got dragged into it, and then other cops at the station found out about what was happening, and he ended up leaving me with no choice.   
  
I made damn sure the charges against him were dropped after listening to Faith's confession though.   
  
He cares about her.   
  
I hadn't expected that.   
  
I hadn't expected him to care about a murderer, but he does.   
  
There was a tenderness when they looked at each other across the station. It wasn't born of love, I can tell the difference, but more of comradeship. They'd both been through similar situations, and were coming out the other side stronger.   
  
I know Angel had a part in Faith confessing, but I know that the most part was played by Faith herself.   
  
I pick up one of the pictures of her and stare at it.   
  
She would be an absolutely beautiful girl, if she just didn't look so tired. So worn down around the edges. So frayed in a way. Like the only thing holding her together is her tough as nails attitude.   
  
I actually feel kind of sorry for her, and I have no idea why, because I know she's a murderer. I know her hands have taken people's lives, and I just can't understand why I'm still feeling a kind of tenderness for this girl.  
  
I wonder if she's sleeping right now?  
  
I wonder what she dreams about?  
  
Maybe if I just go take a look....  
  
I get up quietly from my desk as I make my way down to the holding cells. The clock on the wall reads 11:42 as I pause, holding the key up to the lock. I finally start moving again, sliding the large key in and twisting, hearing the lock click as it opens. I pull the door open as I silently walk inside, letting it slip closed behind me as I make my way slowly down the narrow corridor.   
  
Faith's cell is at the very end.   
  
I approach it cautiously. I still don't even know why I'm doing this. A part of me just wants to take a look. Glimpse for a brief moment what she's doing.  
  
I must be going out of my mind.  
  
I can see her now though, so I stop walking. She's curled up on the narrow cot with a thin brown blanket pulled over her.  
  
I take a step closer. Her face seems so young. Her lips are pulled up ever so slightly at the corners. She looks almost angelic.   
  
Now I know I'm crazy. A murderer looking angelic? But somehow, she's pulling me closer, and I'm helpless to stop it.   
  
I walk right up to the heavy metal bars, part of me itching to reach out and grip them as I look at her, but I manage to restrain myself that much.  
  
And I just watch.   
  
Her chest is rising and falling evenly under the blanket, and I know she's sleeping, so it comes as a great shock when her eyes suddenly open.  
  
I take a step back reflexively, even though I know she can't hurt me from where I'm standing. But a tiny part inside of me is insisting that the reason I stepped back, is because if I didn't, I would have stepped forward.  
  
My God, what is wrong with me.  
  
She's staring right back at me now. Her chest is still rising and falling evenly, and I realise that that's actually her normal breathing pattern. Her eyes are big and dark as she looks at me. Almost like she's assessing me, and I unconsciously straighten myself till I'm standing at my full height.  
  
Then she moves.  
  
She slowly sits up and pushes the blanket off of her. Then she pulls her legs up and sits Indian style on the cot as she leans back against the wall, her hands folded together in her lap.   
  
I turn my head for a moment, then look back at her again. I must look like an idiot to her, spying on her while she was....asleep? Well I don't know what the hell she was doing.   
  
I have to say something, or I'll look like an even bigger idiot than I already do. I don't stop to think about why I care what she thinks.  
  
"Did I wake you?"  
  
She shakes her head slightly, still staring at me with eyes almost black as obsidian in the lack of light the cell has.   
  
"No. I was just laying down."  
  
"Can you not sleep?"  
  
She smiles slightly.   
  
"I'm used to late nights. And to tell you the truth, I really don't need that much sleep."  
  
To tell you the truth?   
  
This girl was more of a mystery than I thought. I've never once heard a criminal use the words 'to tell you the truth' in a conversation before. Then again, I usually don't make a habit of holding conversations with criminals. So why wasn't I leaving yet?  
  
She tilts her head slightly as she studies me.   
  
"You're....Kate....right?"  
  
I start at the fact she knows my name, then I remember that I took her confession, so of course she'd know my name, but a little part of me warms at the fact that she remembered it. She didn't have to. She didn't have to store it in her memory. That was something she did because she wanted to.   
  
I nod at her. "Yeah."  
  
We're silent for a little longer, then she speaks again.  
  
"I don't mean to sound rude, but is there a reason why you're standing there?"  
  
I curse inwardly as I realise I still haven't walked away yet. What am I supposed to say to her now? Why, oh why, do I care?  
  
Dammit, I really wish I knew what was wrong with me.  
  
I try to make the atmosphere less tense.  
  
"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me your life story." I say it with a small smile and a teasing voice, wondering at the same time why I'm making nice with a self confessed killer.  
  
Then as I'm about to open my mouth and say something else, before walking away and forgetting any of this ever happened, she answers me.  
  
The look on her face is utterly serious.  
  
"Do you really wanna know?"  
  
And to my surprise, I find I do.   
  
I'm so shocked, all I can do is nod dumbly while she watches me to make sure I'm not joking. I watch her watch me and I'm falling into her eyes. I never knew anything so dark could be so rich with colours and shades. They're beautiful, and I instinctively know that if I saw her in the light, they'd be a soft, chocolate brown.   
  
But I don't see her in the light. I see her in a sterile metal cell, surrounded by heavy bars, and for some reason, I'm still not walking away. I should have been in and out by now. She should have never noticed me. I was being quiet!  
  
And then she starts talking.  
  
I don't know how long she was talking for, but somewhere along the line, I moved closer to the bars, eventually sitting down in front of them as I listened intently. Soon she came down to join me, our knees facing each other, our positions mimicking each other as she kept right on telling me about herself.  
  
Broken childhood, runaway, high-school drop-out, odd jobs and a ratty apartment, I'd kind of been expecting all that. A sort of gradual lead-up to her eventual hatred of society and thus, her committing all her crimes.  
  
But I wasn't prepared for what she started to describe after that.   
  
Slayer, supernatural powers, patrolling, demon fighting, saving the world, accidental murder of the deputy mayor, downward spiral beginning from there, coma for eight months, revenge on the blonde girl that'd been with Angel when she'd come to confess, escape to LA, plot to kill Angel, and finally the self hatred grew to be too much, and she let Angel finish helping her get back in touch with the peace within herself, with the good, like he'd started to do for her over a year ago.  
  
See? I knew Angel had a part in this. I knew it. For a vampire, he has a really big....well he doesn't have a heart, so I guess it would have to be soul. Angel has a really big soul.  
  
I really wish I'd apologised to him.  
  
Because now I understand why he was reluctant to involve me or turn her over to us.  
  
She even demonstrated her strength on the metal bars that were separating us. She pulled them apart right in front of me with so much ease I forgot to blink -- a lot -- and I almost found myself reaching my hand through the space she'd made and touching her cheek.   
  
But I didn't.  
  
Now I understand why Angel said she was here of her own free will, when he'd pulled me aside to talk after I'd dropped the charges against him. She's really trying to turn her life around. She's had every opportunity to leave, and she hasn't taken it. She wants to stay here. She wants to do penance. She wants to pay for her crimes.   
  
And I'm okay with that.  
  
Eventually, I stand up to leave on shaky legs when she's done. I have no idea how much time has passed, but I know it must be a lot.  
  
She stands up too, and we face each other silently. We're so close, only the bars and a few inches separate us.   
  
Before I have the chance to go, she reaches out her hand and latches onto one of the fingers of my right hand.  
  
"Thanks for listening, Kate."  
  
Without even realising I'm doing it, I untangle my finger from her grip, and grasp her hand firmly. I squeeze it lightly as I smile.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
She smiles then. A real smile. The first one I've ever seen on her face. She squeezes my hand back and nods her head slightly.  
  
A feeling of....*something*....washes over me and I smile brightly. I get a pang in my chest and for some reason, I feel really happy. I made her smile. I, Kate, somehow managed to make this dark and troubled girl smile. I really wish the bars weren't between us right now, because part of me wants to reach out and pull her into the biggest hug I think I've ever given anyone. I'm not exactly the hugging type.   
  
What are these feelings she's bringing out in me?  
  
But I decide not to think about it. I made her smile, and for the moment, that's enough.   
  
I squeeze her hand one last time, then pull away slowly.   
  
"Goodnight Faith."  
  
"You too Kate."  
  
I walk up the corridor and reach the door, then I turn back around one last time. She's leaning sideways against the metal, one hand raised near her face and wrapped around a bar. She lifts her other hand and gives a small wave.   
  
I smile at her, and lift mine back.  
  
I push open the door and walk out, remembering to lock it when it closes. The clock on the wall reads 4:56 in the morning, as I make my way to my desk in the dark. I switch on my desk lamp and start collecting my things as I wonder how I'm going to get up later this morning and come into work.   
  
Maybe I should take the day off. Pretend I'm sick.  
  
As I sling my bag over my shoulder and flick off the lamp, I think better of it. I have someone that I have to see later today. Make that two someone's.   
  
It's about time I apologise to Angel. I know there's still some friendship left there to salvage.   
  
And later this morning, I'm bringing Faith breakfast.  
  
I like her. For some reason that I just can't figure out, I like her. She brings out these protective feelings in me that I never even knew I had. Which is really ridiculous considering that she certainly doesn't need protection. Especially after what I just learnt.   
  
But she still brings them out. And I know those feelings aren't just going to go away.   
  
She's more than a murderer. I know that know. Hell, she was once a superhero. Maybe in a way, she still is. Maybe after this is all over, she'll have the chance to be one again.   
  
And I want to help her with that.   
  
I hum quietly to myself as I decide to take the stairs, rather than the elevator to get down to the ground floor.  
  
One of the things my father once told me when I was a little girl, is that we should always expect the unexpected. Then my mother died and he sort of drew in on himself, and that little bit of advice stayed buried within me for so many years. Maybe I should have taken better care to remember it before now.   
  
It would have come in handy so many times throughout the past year, and it certainly would have come in handy earlier tonight.   
  
Expect the unexpected.  
  
I nod my head as I punch in the security code for the alarm system, before opening the door and closing it behind me, making sure to lock it before I turn and start walking down the still busy street.   
  
Expect the unexpected.  
  
Yeah.  
  
I can do that.  
  
  
End.  



	2. Expect the Unexpected : A Second POV

TITLE: Expect the Unexpected : A Second POV - Part 2  
SERIES: The Unexpected Series  
AUTHOR: Jana Kay   
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au  
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and 20th Century Fox. No profit is being made.  
RATING: R  
CLASSIFICATION: K/F  
SPOILERS: S1 up through to 'Sanctuary' in A:tS, and then breaks away from canon after that.   
SUMMARY: Against her better judgment and detective instincts, Kate speaks to Faith while the Slayer is in prison. Their subsequent and completely unexpected friendship is sorely needed when Faith, to her anger and dismay, becomes the last resort in stopping a demon underlord. Just how far will Faith go to save a life and earn her redemption?   
NOTES: Faith POV  
  
*****  
  
I sigh as I stretch my legs out in front of me and lie back on my narrow cot. I'm a little cold, but I ignore it as I stare at the grey ceiling of my tiny cell. It's dark in here, but my senses are more heightened than your average human, so I can still make it out. A little of the paint is peeling off, and there are crack marks running over parts of the concrete.  
  
I wonder if this place would make it out okay if there was an earthquake?  
  
I asked the cop who brought me lunch what the day is today, and he said Friday. That means I've been in here for about four days now. Four days and five nights. Of course being a Slayer, I can sense each sunrise and sunset, so it was really a pointless question.   
  
But hey, he was a cute cop. I had to ask him something.   
  
He just looked at me kind of funny though, then left again.   
  
Can't blame the guy. I'm a killer after all. I have been now for nearly two years. It's just that, first I was a demon killer. And now I've moved on to humans. I'm not proud of that, but at the time, there wasn't really much I could do to stop it.   
  
At least, not near the end.   
  
I blow a breath out and watch as it makes a hazy little cloud in front of my face. It's not that cold outside really, but I think they just purposely keep the temperature a few degrees lower in here to piss us off. I don't really care one way or another though.   
  
I know this sounds kinda whacked, but I'm sorta liking it in here. For the first time in what feels like a really long time, I've made the right choice.   
  
Because the part of my brain that likes to fight, likes to kill, loves action and constant moving and never ever backing down....it's quiet. It's not harassing me, and it's not tormenting me, it's not whispering dark nothings in my ear about how good it feels to go crazy or how evil is good....it's just quiet.   
  
I'm getting peace here, and I know it's because I made the right choice.   
  
Part of me's wondering why I waited so long for this. Why I didn't let my 'rehabilitation' start when I woke up from that coma, after eight months of mind numbing blackness and freaky dreams and just knowing instinctively that no one had ever bothered to visit me while I was lying helpless and unable to hurt a single soul on my cold linen bed, and the reason why no one had bothered to come was because nobody gave a damn.   
  
And I woke up and I knew....I *knew*....that the hospital was still standing because the Boss was dead, and that meant perfect Buffy Summers had won again.  
  
She who walks the righteous path shall never fail.  
  
And I guess I failed because I let myself fall off that path. I let myself get swept away with the darkness, because I was stupid enough to think that I could just touch it, and I'd still be okay. I wouldn't lose control. I wouldn't lose myself. I wouldn't get caught and stuck and be unable to get out no matter how much I wanted to....  
  
Shit. Angel was right. Why didn't I listen to him? I am one stubborn bitch.  
  
Maybe I didn't let it start, because I felt like I had to get just one more shot at the golden girl. Just one more chance to prove that I could be something. I could be the better of the two Slayers, the stronger one, the faster one, the smarter one. I never wanted to kill B, and really, I never actually tried. It was always her friends I targeted, and even then, the main one was really Angel, and I think I punched Willow once, but that was about it.   
  
I only fought Buffy that one time at my place because I knew if I didn't, she'd kill me. She forced my hand there, and I'd let the game go too far. There was nothing I could do then except keep playing.   
  
And she won.  
  
I always felt lower than Buffy, even when I first got to the 'dale. Her friends didn't even know me, but it was like they still knew right away that Buffy was better. Maybe they could see the darkness in my eyes better than I could. I never really was one to pay a lot of attention to detail, except when it had to do with slaying. And to be honest, maybe not even then either.  
  
I was always trying to be the top dog with B. I was always trying to prove something. I could never just fight alongside her like I always pretended I wanted to. I had to fight better than her. But Sunnydale was *her* town and Giles was *her* Watcher, and I was just the new kid on the block. I was bound to lose from the start.  
  
Maybe that's why there was always only one Slayer at a time throughout history. Because there could only ever be one. Because there was no way there could be two superheros in the world and either one could be satisfied coming in second best.   
  
Deep down inside, B's just like me. She'd never admit it, and her friends would never believe it, but I know the truth. She is just like me. She loves the thrill of slaying and killing as much as I do. She loves the violence and the evil and the clarity that comes when you hold someone's life in your hands. You are the judge and executioner and fucking God if you want to be. She has the exact same darkness in her that I do, but she just never succumbed to it. She never let herself reach out and touch it and get sucked into it, no matter how fucked up her life was.   
  
And that's the only difference between us.   
  
Because me? I killed a guy by accident, and then suddenly, I was feeling like maybe the darkness wasn't so bad if you just rode with it for awhile. I felt like I couldn't beat Buffy because I was fighting alongside her. Maybe I had to be on the other side of the line, off the path, and maybe then I'd win. So I went to the Mayor and I asked for a job....and I got one. And I may not have liked some of the stuff I did for him, but I knew that in his eyes, I was the only Slayer that mattered. The Boss wanted B dead, but he wanted me right there by his side, and as twisted as it sounds, I needed that. I needed to know that someone felt I was the better of the two.   
  
I know B. The only reason she usually seemed okay with the two Slayers thing, is because even though she never admitted it, she knew she was better than me. She knew that if it came down to a fight, she'd win, because she'd been doing this longer than I had....and she was just plain better.   
  
*She* was the one with the kinder soul. *She* was the one with the pure spirit. *She* was the one with the perpetual innocence and naiveté and it didn't matter how much she'd seen. *She* was the one with the friends and family and loving caring boyfriend who helped her pick herself up whenever she fell and I had no one. *She* was the one who cared about everyone and every-fucking-thing around her....even me....until I just finally didn't let her anymore.   
  
So I guess I didn't let myself find peace then, because I just had to have one more go. And for the first time ever, when I saw the look she was wearing on my own face before I punched her, I thought that I'd done it. I had finally managed to come out on top. Now Buffy was going down, and I was going to be just fine. I'd proven I was better. I'd beaten her.   
  
I won.   
  
But it didn't last long, because she escaped the Watcher's and found a way to get back in her own skin again. And after that all I could do was just pick myself up and start running....and just keep running until I found whatever it was that would help me end this without looking like a wimp or a loser or a broken shell. I wanted to keep running until I found something that could take me out kicking and screaming.   
  
A lie to the end.   
  
Because part of me knew I'd lose on purpose, and that was the way I wanted it.  
  
I didn't want to shed tears and apologise or feel guilty and alone because of what I've done or just....*feel*....   
  
And then some higher power led me to Angel. I didn't even know where the train I hopped on was heading or where the bus I bought a ticket for was going, but I wound up in LA, and I was led straight to Angel. And I knew that if I forced him enough, if I caught him off balance enough, if I made him lose control and just got him in the game enough, he'd have the strength to kill me and end it all.   
  
But in the end, he didn't kill me.   
  
He saved me.   
  
Or at least, he helped me save myself.  
  
And after all the things I've done to him. I've never been the guy's best friend, that's for sure. I've tried to kill him about four different times, two of those being less than a week ago. I've tried to make him lose his soul and I hurt all his friends at one time or another.   
  
And he still helped me.   
  
And even though it hurt, I started to feel like maybe I was getting somewhere. He was helping me get somewhere. And he stopped me from running again when I saw my face plastered on TV, and reminded me that I'd already known about that.   
  
But then B came chasing after me, and the Watcher's tracked me down again, and suddenly I felt like I could go either way. I could give myself up and find peace, or I could keep running, and probably not last another month.   
  
In the end, the choice was so easy, and I found that really strange.   
  
I just walked into the station and waited for someone to serve me. Then Angel and Buffy and a blonde woman came round the corner, and I knew Angel was ready to take the fall for me, and that just cemented the choice in my mind. After all I'd done, he was still willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. He believed I'd come through, and so I did.   
  
I stood up and let the blonde woman walk towards me, and I told her I wanted to confess.   
  
I didn't see Angel or Buffy again after that. The blonde woman showed me to a room, and she was being really nice. I don't know why she was being nice, but she was, and that made me feel....good. Like I really *had* made the right choice.   
  
She told me her name was Kate, and that whatever I was confessing to was going to be recorded, and I told her that was five by five and I wanted her to get it all down.   
  
And then she sat opposite me with this....look....on her face....like she didn't know what to make of me, and she asked me what I wanted to confess. She knew what it was I was going to say, I remember her from the TV when she told everybody I was dangerous, and she was right about that, and she knew exactly what I was going to say, but she just sat there quietly and listened while I told her all the fucked up things I've done and laid them all out on the table.   
  
After I was done, she just sat there, then she reached over and switched off the tape and asked if I knew I was going to be arrested now.   
  
I told her yeah, and that's what I'd kind of been hoping for.  
  
She looked surprised again, but then she stood up and left, and another guy came in and cuffed me, read me my rights and all that shit, then took me to a cell. The same cell I'm sitting in right now. Since then, they've only taken me out again to sign a confession.  
  
Me and this cell have gotten to be buds now. I know where all the cracks are, where the crumbles in the walls are, what the most comfortable position on the cot is, where you have to stand to get the most light on you during the day, and which spot you have to be in to hear the most from.   
  
And at the same time as I was finding all this out, I started to feel the chaos in my head quiet down, and the peace as slowly as it's been coming, is at least coming. And I'm thankful for that. And I'm thankful for Angel who believed in me, and for Kate for not being a bitch like some of the other cops I've met, and for Buffy for....always wanting to be my friend.   
  
Maybe when I finally get out of here and if she's still alive, she'll still want to be my friend. And if she does, if I'm that lucky, I'll let her, and I won't let myself give a shit about which of us is better at the slaying gig and which of us isn't, because life's too short. Being a Slayer, I should have figured that out ages ago, but I didn't.   
  
I know it now though.  
  
And I don't want to wonder if it's too late.  
  
I sigh as I push myself up on my elbows and swing my legs over the side of the cot. They took my watch away from me, but I can sense that it's close to midnight. I stand up and walk around a little to get the blood flowing through my legs again, then sit back down on the cot. I lie down as I pull the brown blanket up over me, and I curl myself into the most comfortable position I can.   
  
I'm not that tired, but if I lay down for long enough, maybe sleep will come.  
  
I close my eyes and breath steadily. Everything around me is quiet. Then suddenly, I hear the tiny click of a lock being turned and the door to get into the cells is being opened. I decide to ignore it, so I just keep laying here. Whatever this is, it won't concern me anyway.   
  
I hear quiet footsteps as they slowly walk down the corridor coming closer to me, and I wonder for a moment whether this does concern me. But I still ignore it.   
  
I can't ignore it anymore though when the footsteps stop, and I feel a prickly tingle rush like wildfire over my skin. I'm being watched. So I open my eyes.  
  
I'm surprised to see that it's the woman cop. The blonde one. Kate. But I don't let it show on my face, and I just watch her as she takes a step back. As I keep watching her, she straightens herself up a little and stares right back at me, and a part of me on the inside just has to smirk. Rogue Slayer or not, I've still got that stare. That penetrating one that always makes people feel like they're being assessed if I turn it on.   
  
Buffy has it too.  
  
She's not doing anything, she's just staring at me, so I decide to move. I sit up slowly and push the blanket off of me, then I pull my legs up onto the cot and cross them Indian style, as I lean back against the wall and rest my hands together in my lap.   
  
She looks away from me for a moment, back towards the door she came from, then she turns back again.  
  
"Did I wake you?"  
  
I don't know what to say, so I just shake my head slightly and stare at her.   
  
"No. I was just laying down."  
  
"Can you not sleep?"  
  
I smile slightly. I'm a Slayer. I live for the night. Even in this cell, I'll always live for the night. That's just the way it is.  
  
"I'm used to late nights. And to tell you the truth, I really don't need that much sleep."  
  
She tilts her head slightly as she stares at me, and I know she's studying me. I can almost see the wheels turning in her head.  
  
I feel like the silence is going to smother me in a second, so I try to fill in the gaps.  
  
"You're....Kate....right?"  
  
She starts a little. Probably didn't think I'd remember her name. But she was nice to me. She showed me a little respect even though I probably don't deserve it, and she treated me....not so much like a killer....but more like....I don't know....a human. So yeah, I remembered her name.  
  
She nods at me. "Yeah."  
  
We're silent for a little longer, and this time, the silence isn't as bad, but I fill it in anyway because she's made me curious now. This cop, who by rights should hate me because I'm everything she stands against, has been nice to me. And now she turns up in the middle of the night and she isn't even saying anything. I may not know much, but that's not exactly normal cop behaviour.  
  
"I don't mean to sound rude, but is there a reason why you're standing there?"  
  
There's a pause, and then she replies.  
  
"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me your life story."  
  
She has a small smile on her face and her voice sounds a little teasing, and I don't know if she's serious or not, but I suddenly feel like I really wanna tell her. My life is something I've never been that comfortable talking about, unless of course it was stories of my slaying triumphs. But even then, I really only skimmed over the details. I never went in depth and talked about my feelings as I watched my Watcher die, or how scared I was when I went up against my first vampire. I always just talked about the good stuff.  
  
And I didn't want to tell Giles or Wesley about this stuff, and I didn't want to tell Angel, so why would I be wanting to tell this cop who probably doesn't even care? But I do, and I don't stop to think about why. I can see she's about to say something, so before she has the chance, I ask her.  
  
"Do you really wanna know?"  
  
I watch her carefully to make sure she isn't joking as she nods her head, and then before I have second thoughts, I start to talk.  
  
I don't know how long I was talking for, but somewhere along the line, she moved closer to the bars of my cell, and eventually ended up sitting down in front of them as she listened to me so intently.  
  
That made me feel good. Like somebody actually cared about all the shit I'd been through. Like first and foremost, I was Faith. Not a Slayer, and not a murderer....but Faith.  
  
So I kept talking, and soon after she sat down, I came down off the cot to join her. I sat opposite her with our knees facing each other and our positions mimicking each other through the bars as I kept on telling her about myself.  
  
I don't think I left a single thing out. I went through it all. My broken childhood, my being a runaway, how I dropped out of high school, the odd jobs I worked and the ratty little apartment I had, and I have a feeling she was kinda expecting all that stuff.   
  
I know she wasn't expecting the rest.  
  
And I know she must know Angel's a vampire, or she would have never believed me.   
  
I told her about being a Slayer, about my supernatural powers, all the patrolling I did and the demon fighting, about helping to save the world, my accidental murder of the deputy mayor, and how I sort of lost control and slid downhill from there. It hurt to talk about the coma that I vegetated in for eight months, but I still told her, and after that I talked about my relationship as a sister Slayer to Buffy and why I wanted to get back at her, and then my relationship with Angel and why I wanted to kill him when I got to LA.   
  
But in the end, he ended up saving me.  
  
I even demonstrated my strength on the metal bars that were separating us. I pulled them apart right in front of her, and a part of me wanted to burst out laughing when I saw her forget to blink a couple of times, but I didn't, because suddenly I found myself wanting to reach through the space I'd just made and grab hold of her hand.   
  
I didn't though.   
  
When I finally finish, she stands up to leave and I stand up too. We face each other silently, and I realise that we're so close. Only the bars and a few inches separate us. After telling her all the stuff I've never told anybody before, I feel like a weight's been taken off my chest. I can breath a little easier now. And she listened to all my shit and she didn't have to.  
  
Before I can stop myself, I reach out my hand and grab hold of one of the fingers of her right hand.  
  
"Thanks for listening, Kate."  
  
She looks at me, and suddenly she's pulling her finger out of my grasp, and she's grabbing my whole hand firmly and squeezing it as she smiles.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
I smile then. A real smile. I can't help it. For some reason, this cop has the ability to make me feel really good. And it's a really bitchin feeling.  
  
I squeeze her hand back as I nod slightly, feeling like a bit of an idiot.  
  
This look passes over her face, and she looks really happy. And I get this pang in my chest because I know that it was me who made her happy. I can't understand how or why, but I know it was me, and I can't tell you how good it feels to know that you made someone that happy. To know that you had a hand in doing something good rather than evil, and being thanked and appreciated for it.   
  
A feeling of....*something*....washes over me as she squeezes my hand one last time, and pulls away slowly.  
  
"Goodnight Faith."  
  
"You too Kate."  
  
I watch her as she walks up the corridor and reaches the door, and I lean sideways against the metal of my cell, with one hand raised near my face and wrapped around a bar. She turns back around to look at me, and I lift my other hand and give her a small wave.  
  
She smiles at me, and lifts her hand back.  
  
Then she pushes open the door and walks out, the door slipping closed behind her. A moment later, I hear the lock click.   
  
I wait there for a minute as I hear silence settle around me again, then I sigh and push myself away from the bars. I walk slowly back to my cot and flop down on it as my body senses the approaching sunrise in what should be about an hour or more.   
  
I'm still not really that tired, but if I lie down for long enough, maybe sleep will come.  
  
As I curl myself up again and pull the blanket back over me, I think back over everything that just happened.   
  
A cop listened to me. What's more, she seemed to really care.  
  
I like her. I've never been a huge fan of cops, but for some reason, Kate's different. She knows I'm a murderer, but she still seems to like me. Or at least, she still seems to care. She hasn't filed me away as a lost cause, and she wanted to listen to the story of my life, and I think that's something that nobody has ever really wanted to do before.   
  
She brings out these good feelings in me. Good feelings about myself because she's shown me that I'm still capable of human kindness, and I'm really thankful for that. Plus, she's a great listener, and she didn't make me feel like a freak when I told her about all the people I'd killed and the battles I'd fought.  
  
Maybe she even saw that I'm more than a murderer. That I'm helping myself get back on the good track and I want to be a proper Slayer again. That when this is all over, I want to go back to helping save the world. Maybe she'll even help me out with that. I have a feeling this conversation wasn't the last we're going to have.  
  
I close my eyes and breathe deeply as I snuggle myself up a bit more.  
  
My first Watcher in Boston once told me that, as a Slayer, I should always expect the unexpected. And being new at the slaying thing and eager to learn, I listened to what she said and tried to remember it all.   
  
Then I watched her die in front of me, and it was like I forgot all the little lessons she taught me. I forgot all the bits of advice she gave me and I forgot that for a few months, she was the most important person in my life. She was the mother I never really had. She was the friend I never thought I deserved. She was the guardian I thought I'd never have who I could trust to never hurt me.  
  
But then she died, and the part of me that carried her around inside died too.  
  
Maybe I should have remembered it though, because I think it definitely would have come in handy earlier tonight.  
  
Expect the unexpected.  
  
I nod my head as I finally feel myself starting to drift off.  
  
Yeah.  
  
I can do that.  
  
  
End.  



	3. Apologies

TITLE: Apologies - Part 3  
SERIES: The Unexpected Series  
AUTHOR: Jana Kay   
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au   
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and 20th Century Fox. No profit is being made.   
RATING: R  
CLASSIFICATION: K/F  
SPOILERS: S1 up through to 'Sanctuary' in A:tS, and then breaks away from canon after that.   
SUMMARY: Against her better judgment and detective instincts, Kate speaks to Faith while the Slayer is in prison. Their subsequent and completely unexpected friendship is sorely needed when Faith, to her anger and dismay, becomes the last resort in stopping a demon underlord. Just how far will Faith go to save a life and earn her redemption?   
NOTES: Kate POV  
  
*****  
  
I run a nervous hand through my hair as I walk down the street and approach the doorway that leads up to Angel Investigations.  
  
My talk with Faith earlier this morning opened my eyes a lot. She's known Angel for a while now, and the things she told me about him and her relationship with him and how he helped her, really made up my mind for me.  
  
I have to apologise. For the way I treated him and for the way I shut him out. I had no right to, and then I got self righteous and stubborn and let it go on for too long. He was a good friend and colleague in the field before my father died, and I know that if I just apologise and give him time, maybe we can be friends again.  
  
After talking with Faith, I got back home at around half past five this morning and went right to sleep. I didn't even bother to get out of my clothes and clean myself up. I really only let myself sleep for about two hours though, because I wanted to get up early so I could swing by Angel's before I have to be at work, and before he has any clients.  
  
So that's why I'm here at eight in the morning, walking down to his office.   
  
I push open the door and walk up the stairs, wondering if Cordelia and Wesley will be here, or if I'll find Angel by himself. Right now, I really don't know which is the better option, and before I have the chance to decide, I'm already at the door.   
  
I push it open quietly and walk in, looking around the office as I do. Cordelia isn't at her desk and the computer isn't on, so I'm guessing she isn't here yet, and I can see no sign of Wesley, so I have to assume that he isn't here at the moment either. I take a deep breath and walk to Angel's office door, pausing a moment before I reach up and knock.   
  
There's no answer.  
  
I wait a moment, then turn the knob and stick my head inside to double check.   
  
Nope, the office is empty.  
  
I close it again as I take another deep breath. This means either Angel is in his apartment and sleeping, or he's in his apartment and not sleeping, or he's just not here. I've come this far. I can swallow my pride a bit more and go downstairs and see if he's lurking. If he is, then I'll apologise and hope for the best before heading off to work.  
  
If he's not....well I'm just gonna have to come back another time and try this again.  
  
I look between the elevator and the stairs, and try to decide which one I should take to get down there. Finally, I decide that the stairs is the most unobtrusive method, so I walk over to them.  
  
I walk down quietly, trying not to be too noisy in case he *is* still sleeping. I don't want to wake him up by accident and then have him attack me thinking I'm an intruder. I get to the bottom of the stairs and look around.   
  
I don't see any movement, but then again, the apartment's kind of dark, so he could be somewhere in the shadows. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.   
  
I raise my hand and knock on part of the wall.   
  
"Angel?"  
  
I hear a door open somewhere in the darkened interior of the apartment, then footsteps coming towards me.  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
I have to smile. I never thought anybody could mistake my voice for Cordelia's. We're just too different. Granted, I don't know the girl that well, but the differences are still obvious to any observer.  
  
"No, it's....it's Kate."  
  
He comes into view and stops short when he sees me.  
  
"Oh."  
  
We look at each other for a few moments before he suddenly seems to remember something. He shakes his head for a second.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He gestures with his hand and turns, walking back the way he came from, and I follow him quietly into his little kitchenette.  
  
He turns to look at me.  
  
"Coffee?"  
  
I nod my head enthusiastically as I realise just how tired I am. Coffee sounds like a great idea. And Angel's coffee is much better than the stuff the espresso machine makes upstairs. The coffee up there, I don't touch. The coffee down here, is another story.  
  
"Yes please."  
  
He nods and starts getting things ready, then turns his head back towards me and nods again towards the table.  
  
"Have a seat."  
  
I slide gratefully into a chair and rest my elbows on the table.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
As he lets the coffee finish getting ready, he comes back over to the table and sits in the chair opposite me. I can't bring myself to look at him, so I tap the fingers of my right hand on the table until he finally says something.  
  
"Is this about a case?"  
  
I wince slightly as I realise that's all he probably expects of me now. It's not exactly like we were buddy buddy before we fell out, but at least we could talk about other things and find some common ground together.  
  
I shake my head as I finally look up at him.   
  
"No Angel, it's not."  
  
He looks at me carefully as he asks his next question.  
  
"Is this about Faith?"  
  
I smile slightly in memory of my midnight conversation with Faith, then shake my head again.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh. Well that's....that's good."  
  
I nod my head. "Yes it is."  
  
I'm about to start apologising when the kettle whistles and he gets up again to fix my coffee.  
  
"Sugar?"  
  
"One please."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"No thanks."  
  
He finishes fixing it and comes back to the table, sitting down again as he slides the mug across to me. I take it and wrap my hands around it, as I wait for it to cool a little so I can have a sip. I look up at Angel and find he's watching me. Well of course he should. Here I am, turning up uninvited in his apartment, then I sit here at his kitchen table and so far I've barely said two words to him.  
  
I should really start talking before he throws me out.  
  
"Angel I....I want to apologise."  
  
He blinks, then shakes his head.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I want to apologise."  
  
He looks perplexed and I have no idea why.  
  
"What for, Kate?"  
  
I stare at him a little funny. Has he not noticed the way I've treated him for the past two months? Has he not noticed any changes in my behaviour and most of all, the way I cuffed him and dragged him to the station less than a week ago? He can't be that oblivious to think that nothing's wrong and that the friendship between us is just fine and dandy.  
  
"For the way I treated you Angel."  
  
He smiles slightly.   
  
"Kate, I understand. I was harboring a criminal and I didn't turn her in. You had every right to treat me the way you did."  
  
I shake my head as I realise he's talking about what happened with Faith, and while that's part of this, it certainly isn't all of it.  
  
"I didn't just mean about that Angel. I meant about everything."  
  
He looks at me and waits for me to continue, his head tilted slightly to the side as he watches me swirl the coffee around in my mug. I blow on the steam for a second, then raise the mug to my lips and take a sip.  
  
Yep. Angel makes great coffee. This is just what I need.  
  
I take a deep breath as I try to mentally structure what I want to say to him. In the end, I just dive right in.  
  
"Ever since my father died Angel, I've been treating you unfairly. At that warehouse, you were trying to comfort me, and I was rude and pushed you away because....because in a way, I thought that maybe his death was your fault. But then I came to my senses and realised that that wasn't true at all. You just happened to be there. And that doesn't make you responsible. It just makes you a good friend to me because you were trying to look out for him. The fact that he didn't let you in was....unfortunate....but that doesn't mean it's your fault, and I had no right to treat you as if it was."  
  
I pause to take a breath and look at him. He's looking down at the table and he's drawing patterns on it with his hands. He doesn't look like he's about to say anything, so I keep going.  
  
"For a while now I've been wanting to apologise, but I didn't really know how. I've always been stubborn and never really good at expressing my feelings, but after last night, I felt like I really owed you this, and also, I *wanted* to give you this. You have enough on your mind without my forcing guilt on you too. And, I want to go back to being friends. I want you to be able to come and talk to me about a case, or call me to help you out with information or back up if you need it, or just be able to call me to talk if you want. I miss the friendship that we had before my father's....death....and I hope there's still something left here to salvage."  
  
I pause to take another breath, then I go on again.  
  
"I really am sorry Angel. I hope you can forgive me."  
  
He looks up then and his hands stop moving.   
  
"What happened last night?"  
  
I blink.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You said after last night, so I'm wondering what happened last night."  
  
"Oh."  
  
I suddenly don't know what to tell him. Should I tell him about my talk with Faith or not? I decide to tell him. After all, he knows Faith, he likes her, I saw the looks that passed between them at the station. He won't be upset about my talking to her. He'll understand, even though part of me doesn't even understand myself.  
  
"I talked to Faith last night."  
  
He looks surprised.   
  
"Really."  
  
I nod as I look back down at my mug.  
  
"Yeah. We talked for awhile actually. And I'd been meaning to apologise to you before I spoke to her, but after I did, I just realised you deserve an apology even more, so I came by first thing this morning. I didn't want to put this off anymore than I already have."  
  
He nods his head again.  
  
"So you spoke to Faith."  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
He still looks a bit surprised.   
  
"Why?"  
  
His question catches me off guard. I sputter a little as I look down into my mug, then look around the room for a second before looking back down at the mug clutched tightly in my hands again.  
  
"I....I....really don't....know Angel. I just did."  
  
For some reason, this answer seems to satisfy him, and he lowers his gaze back down to the table. His fingers start drawing patterns again.   
  
"How's she doing?"  
  
I smile a little.   
  
"She's doing fine."  
  
He looks up quickly.  
  
"She's not giving you a hard time is she?"  
  
I smile a little wider.  
  
"She's a model prisoner."  
  
He looks back down again, deep in thought.  
  
"Well that's good." He nods to himself. "I knew she could do it."  
  
I think back over what Faith spoke about this morning, and I nod my head.  
  
"I think she can too."  
  
He looks back up at me.  
  
"You don't hate her?"  
  
He sounds surprised.  
  
I shake my head slightly as I watch him.  
  
"No, I don't. Don't ask me why because I don't know, but for some reason, I just don't. When I spoke to her last night, I realised that, deep down inside, she's a good person. She got lost somewhere along the way, but she's doing penance now. She's done the crimes, now she's doing the time, and she wants to do it. She's reforming herself. And you were right about her needing to be treated carefully. I really should have listened to you, not that idiot from Wolfram & Hart."  
  
His eyes harden as he watches me carefully.   
  
"Wolfram & Hart?"  
  
I nod my head.   
  
"Yeah. One of the lawyers, Lindsey I think his name is, well he came and told me about how you were watching out for Faith. And before I could do anything, my colleagues had found out about it, and so I ended up having to arrest you, because there was no way I could get around it."  
  
"So what you were saying about my cell facing east....what was that about?"  
  
I wince again as I listen to his tone.  
  
"I was....angry I guess....that you hadn't told me about her. Supernatural things that are going on and involve the police in some way can be dangerous for us. If we'd caught Faith on our own without her coming in herself, she would have probably taken out a lot of my men before we even managed to get close to her. You knew we were looking for her. If you'd just called and told me and explained, a lot of trouble could have been avoided on our part, you never would have had to have been arrested, and I could have thrown that idiotic lawyer out on his ear."  
  
He smiles slightly at me.  
  
"You don't like Wolfram & Hart?"  
  
"You don't remember the man they were representing who tried to kill me? I despise them and everything they stand for."  
  
He chuckles quietly.  
  
"Well, you're not alone there."  
  
"I kind of figured."  
  
He's quiet for a bit longer, and I drink some more coffee before I finally speak again.  
  
"I really am sorry Angel. I had no right. I just hope you can forgive me."  
  
He's quiet for a little longer, then he chuckles again and looks up at me.  
  
"Do you have any idea how strange it is, for you to be apologising to me?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
He looks at me intently.  
  
"Because of what I am Kate. I'm a vampire. And on the whole, vampires are dangerous demons who kill humans for food, sport, and fun. I used to do all of those things. I did them for over a hundred years before my soul was restored in Romania, and when I lost it again two years ago, I was right back into my old habits again. I've done a lot of really bad things that your treatment of me can't even come close to. You shouldn't have apologised. You didn't need to. I don't deserve apologies."  
  
"But--"  
  
"No buts Kate. I've killed and tortured thousands of people. I enjoyed every minute of it, and sometimes, I still find myself enjoying the memories of what I used to do. Before I was cursed, I was one of the most feared vampires in Europe. I was a Master Vampire who did what I could to make as much trouble as possible, and I loved it. I once even tried to suck the world into Hell, but I was beaten, and I ended up going to Hell instead. Take all the things I've done, then take the worst thing you've ever done."  
  
He stared at me hard.  
  
"They can't even compare can they. You didn't have to apologise. I don't deserve to hear it."  
  
I swallow hard as I listen to the things he's telling me. Finally, I find my voice again.  
  
"I'm still sorry."  
  
His expression softens and he smiles slightly at me.  
  
"Well if you still want to be sorry after all that, I guess I can forgive you."  
  
I smile back at him, then look down at my mug.  
  
"So are we....okay now? Are we friends?"  
  
He nods his head as he looks up from the table.  
  
"Yeah Kate. We're friends."  
  
Suddenly, a loud bang sounds upstairs, and we turn our heads up to the ceiling as we hear a rapid set of footsteps on the floor above, followed by another set of footsteps coming in more slowly behind the first.  
  
"ANGEL?"  
  
Angel's head drops back down again from looking at the ceiling as he looks at me.  
  
"Cordelia and Wesley."  
  
I smile at him.   
  
"She's pretty loud isn't she."  
  
He shakes his head as he gets up from the table.  
  
"Believe me, I know."  
  
"ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU?"  
  
He goes to the bottom of the stairs as he calls, "I'll be right up Cordelia!"  
  
"GOT IT."  
  
I get up from the table as I finish off my coffee, and Angel walks back towards me. A quick look at my watch tells me I have another fifteen minutes before I'm due at work at nine. Great. That gives me just enough time to grab some breakfast.  
  
"I think I'm needed upstairs. Sorry about this."  
  
I shake my head quickly.  
  
"Don't be. I really had to be on my way anyway."  
  
"Well, thanks for stopping by Kate."  
  
"No problem Angel. And hey, even if you think I shouldn't have apologised, it was just something I had to do for myself. I wouldn't have felt right otherwise. I hope you understand."  
  
He looks at me for a moment, then he nods.  
  
"Yeah. I do understand."  
  
I start to head towards the stairs as he follows behind me. As I get to the bottom, I turn back around again.  
  
"If you need me for anything--"  
  
"I won't hesitate to call."  
  
I nod my head.  
  
"Good."  
  
I stand there for a moment longer, then I say one more thing.  
  
"You're more than welcome to visit Faith if you want Angel. She's allowed to have visitors. Granted, I don't know if you can come by during normal hours because of the sun but, if you want to see her, I have the authority to arrange another time for you so daytime hours won't be a problem."  
  
He seems pleased about this, and he nods his head again.  
  
"I think I might take you up on that."  
  
Suddenly, a loud thump sounds from upstairs and I hear a voice I assume is Cordelia's cry out in pain.   
  
Angel and I quickly run upstairs to see what the problem is, and we find Cordelia sprawled out on the floor, clutching her head in pain. Wesley is crouching beside her, supporting her, and he smiles at me quickly before looking at Angel with a chagrined expression on his face.  
  
"She had a vision, and I didn't catch her in time when she fell."  
  
I look at him strangely.  
  
"A vision?"  
  
Angel looks at me quickly, then says, "I'll explain later."  
  
I nod my head.  
  
"I'd better get going myself. Tell Cordelia I hope she feels okay."  
  
Angel, who by now had moved over to Cordelia's other side, looks up at me one more time and smiles again.  
  
"We will. Have a nice day Kate."  
  
"You too."  
  
Then I turn and walk out the door, closing it carefully behind me before I make my way down the outer stairs again that lead to the street. I look at my watch as I push the outer door open. I've now got ten minutes to grab breakfast and be at work.  
  
I start walking as I think over what just happened.  
  
I hadn't expected Angel to forgive me so quickly, especially after I'd been such a bitch to him, but he did.  
  
Yep. He's got a big soul alright.  
  
I stop off at the bakery as I pass it, and go in to pick up some things. After I finish ordering and they hand me the bag, I pay and say goodbye to the man behind the counter.  
  
I walk out again, as I uncharacteristically start to swing the bakery bag in my hand around a little.  
  
It feels good to have my friendship with Angel back on track again. And maybe this time, I can get to know Cordelia and Wesley a little better too.  
  
You know, maybe I have more in my life than just work after all.  
  
I look down at the bag in my hand.  
  
I hope Faith's hungry.  
  
  
End.  



	4. Quicksilver Tears Over Breakfast

TITLE: Quicksilver Tears Over Breakfast - Part 4  
SERIES: The Unexpected Series  
AUTHOR: Jana Kay  
EMAIL: jana_kay17@yahoo.com.au  
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and 20th Century Fox. No profit is being made.   
RATING: R  
CLASSIFICATION: K/F  
SPOILERS: S1 up through to 'Sanctuary' in A:tS, and then breaks away from canon after that.   
SUMMARY: Against her better judgment and detective instincts, Kate speaks to Faith while the Slayer is in prison. Their subsequent and completely unexpected friendship is sorely needed when Faith, to her anger and dismay, becomes the last resort in stopping a demon underlord. Just how far will Faith go to save a life and earn her redemption?   
NOTES: Kate POV  
  
*****  
  
I pull open the main door to the station as I make my way inside. I hum quietly to myself as I briskly pass by the front desk, nodding my head to the casual behind the counter. I look up at the clock on the wall and note that I'm on time. 9:00 exactly. I continue past the counter, and am about to push open the glass door that leads to the stairs going up to the offices, when the casual stops me.  
  
"Is that breakfast, Detective Lockley?"  
  
I pause and turn around, looking down at the bakery bag in my hand as I do. As I look up again, a smile passes over my face that I can't stop.  
  
"Yes it is, Winters."  
  
He looks at the bag in my hand for a second. He's probably taking in the size of it and wondering just what exactly I eat for breakfast, and if this is breakfast, what do my other meals look like.  
  
"You must be hungry."  
  
I smile again.  
  
"I am."  
  
I leave out the part where I tell him this is actually food for two.   
  
To tell you the truth, I really don't know how I'm going to get into Faith's cell with this stuff anyway. Because I know I'm going to have to make up some excuse. You're not supposed to just wander in and out and make friends with prisoners. The only reasons we really have for going in there in the first place are to take them meals, and bring them out for phonecalls, visitors, relocation, police interviews or court discussions with lawyers.   
  
At this moment, I don't really want to think about my two colleagues who witnessed my going into the holding cells last night, and still not being out when they left.  
  
For now, I just want to have breakfast.  
  
My stomach's starting to grumble.  
  
I smile one last time at Winters, then turn back to the door. I pull it open as I take a deep breath, then let it out as the door swings shut behind me, and I start to make my way up the stairs. Walking into the large room filled with desks and the hum of voices, I'm a little surprised to see that the desks aren't all full. There are only about half of my colleagues here. Then I remember that it's Saturday, and not everybody works on Saturdays.   
  
I let out another breath as I realise this will make things a little easier. I make a beeline for my desk as I casually answer the greetings given by people around me. I toss my bag on the desk and carefully place the bakery bag next to it, then I continue walking and make my way to my supervisor's office.   
  
I reach the door with the gold and silver plaque on it, and nervousness hits me. What exactly am I going to say to him anyway?   
  
See, there's this prisoner. Actually, let's be more specific, she's a murderer. And I kind of like her in some strange way, and now I really want to bring her breakfast. Can I go on through? Is that okay with you?   
  
I'll get thrown out on my ear.  
  
Or get sent to therapy.  
  
I shudder as I think of that stupid sensitivity workshop they made us do.  
  
Now that was a strange day. You know at first, I just thought that what happened was really weird events triggered by a full moon or something. It's a common myth that things always get a little crazy around that time. Now I'm not that superstitious, but at the time, it helped to explain the weird events that took place that day.   
  
But now I know better.   
  
Courtesy of Angel, I know it was magick of some type. And the entire precinct got caught in it, including me. Come to think of it, Angel wasn't exactly himself either then. And at Angel's office, Cordelia and Wesley were looking at me like I was crazy as I swung around on that chair. Let's not forget I also broke down at my father's retirement party. And I probably did a lot of other stupid things too, but those are the main highlights.   
  
Wait a minute, it wasn't Wesley at all. It was....Doyle....I think his name was.   
  
Yeah. Doyle.  
  
Whatever happened to him?  
  
It was like he just disappeared one day, then Wesley came along.  
  
Weird.  
  
I bring my mind back to the present as I shake my head slightly, then I raise a hand and rap quickly on Sergeant Matthew's door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
I swallow hard, then turn the knob and go in.  
  
I close the door quietly behind me as he looks up. The Serg is an old guy, but he's a good guy. I've known him since I was a little girl, but of course then, he was my father's friend. They rose through the ranks together. Now he can no longer be my father's friend, at least, not anymore in this lifetime, so he's just my supervisor.  
  
A wave of sadness sweeps through me as I remember my father's death, but then I quickly bring myself out of my reverie. Acting spacy will not help me in this current situation. He'll just think I'm suffering from stress and he'll make me go on vacation.   
  
I'm a workaholic. A vacation is *definitely* not something I need.  
  
"Lockley. How you doing?"  
  
The sun is coming in through the blinds and parts of the rays are hitting his face, highlighting the few strands of black that still stubbornly maintain their place on his otherwise white head. He smiles warmly at me as his silver mustache twitches slightly, and I remember that he always had a soft spot for me. Growing up, he always treated me as though I was his own little girl, and in truth, a part of me always wished my father was more like him.  
  
Of course, whenever I thought that, I'd feel guilty and want to bite my tongue because, at least I still had my father, even though mom was gone.  
  
"Good sir. How are you doing?"  
  
The middle button of his paisley shirt is about ready to pop because of his stodgy frame, and his tie is a horrendous concoction of white, purple and orange. I don't know how he managed to get out of his house without his wife noticing him. Martha is a very strong willed woman. She's the only woman I know who can make the Serg tremble just by looking at him. I know for a fact she would have skinned him alive before letting him walk out the door wearing those clothes.  
  
"Fine, fine."  
  
He waves his arm invitingly as he pushes his chair back from the desk and settles more comfortably against the brown leather.  
  
"Take a seat."  
  
Nervousness runs through my veins again as I grab hold of the closest chair and pull it towards me. Then I sit. My hands instinctively fold together on my lap, and I look down at them as I try to figure out what to say.  
  
"So Katie. Tell me what's the problem."  
  
Okay. I haven't thought of a good excuse by now, so I'm just going to have to lie. I don't like it, but I have to. There's no way that I could tell the truth and still get let in to see Faith. And I want to see her.  
  
"Well sir, you know the young girl that we were looking for last week, who ended up coming in and confessing?"  
  
He strokes his smooth chin as his elbow rests on the arm of his creaky leather chair.   
  
"I remember her, yes. Confessed to murder didn't she? Mighty strange girl that one. Never before met a murderer who wanted to atone for their crimes. At least, not in this city."  
  
I nod my head.  
  
"Yes sir, that's her. Her name's Faith."  
  
He watches me curiously as he lowers his hand from his chin, and lays it out fully on the arm of the chair.  
  
"And you're telling me about her because....?"  
  
I try to imperceptibly wipe the sweat off my palms and onto my pants.  
  
"Well, there're a lot of things that intrigue me about her situation. I wanted to know if I could take her out to ask her a few more questions."  
  
Just then, his phone rings. He leans forward quickly, holding up a finger to stop me from leaving at the same time as he picks up the receiver.   
  
"Hello?"  
  
He pauses.  
  
"Alright then. Just give me a second and then I'll tell you what you need to know."  
  
He covers the mouthpiece as he turns to me.  
  
"Sorry about this Lockley, I've gotta take this call. Now listen, if you feel it's necessary to speak to this girl about her case, then you go right ahead. I trust your judgment."  
  
I start to nod enthusiastically, then catch myself. I get up quickly before he can change his mind, and I'm out the door before he's even taken his hand off the mouthpiece.   
  
As I pause outside his door, I wonder.  
  
Why am I so anxious to take Faith breakfast?  
  
And why am I so anxious to see Faith?  
  
Sure the talk between us last night was....enlightening....and nice in a strange sort of way....and I don't hate her....but why do I want to see her again? Especially so soon after last night. There's no reason for it. Well, no sane reason anyway.  
  
She scares me a little. And the strange part is, it's not because she's a murderer. You know last night, even as she was telling me about the things she did, when I found myself looking at her hands, I wasn't thinking, 'Gee, whose blood does she have on those,' I was thinking, 'Her hands are beautiful.' And I can still picture them now. Pale and fragile, yet undeniably powerful and slender.  
  
She makes me feel things that are completely out of character for me. Things I've never felt before, and maybe things I'll never feel again. It was almost like we made a connection last night, and somehow, she got under my skin. And now no matter what I do, where I go, who I'm with, I think of her and what she'd be doing right now. I think of her and how she's feeling at that moment. And no matter now much I itch and dig at my skin, or try to scrub myself free of whatever this thing is between us, it refuses to leave.   
I want to protect her, and at the same time, I know that's ridiculous. Firstly, because she's a Slayer and could easily throw me across the room, and secondly, because she's a prisoner, and probably won't be leaving prison for a good long time. Nothing can ever come of....whatever it is that's suddenly sprung up between us.   
  
God, I don't even know what it is.  
  
She's Faith.  
  
I can't put it anymore simply than that.  
  
I want to protect her, and watch out for her. I want to talk to her and observe her. I want to make her smile and joke with her. I want to hear her laugh and know it's because I did it. I want to make her feel human and loved, because deep down, I know those are the things she's furthest from feeling, and really, those are the only things I can hope to give her.  
  
Mainly, I want to be her friend, and I want her to trust me and want to be mine too.  
  
Cause I could do with friendship right now.  
  
It's like now that I've gotten Angel's friendship again, I've suddenly gotten greedy.  
  
I want to be able to build on the friendship between Angel and I now, like I never gave us the chance to do before. Part of me doesn't know why that was. Maybe because I was too attracted to him and I always wanted more than he was willing to give. Maybe because we never fully trusted each other. Well, I'm still attracted. I mean, who wouldn't be? But I trust him completely now. And I don't want a romance with him anymore. Mainly because he's a vampire, and technically dead, and call me crazy but I'm not too comfortable with the idea of that, but also because I know he doesn't feel that way about me. And he probably never did.   
  
I want to be friends with Wesley and Cordelia too, because too often, I feel like I just ignore them. I have no right to do that. They're both nice people that Angel obviously cares for. And I may not know details about them, but the things I do know of them, I'm certain of. Being employees of Angel's means they both have strength, spirit, determination and courage to face the evil they fight every day. And they're humans. They do it for no other reason than because they want to. Angel may do it because he's guilty and is trying to work for redemption, and Faith may have done it because she's a Slayer and was bound by destiny, but Wesley and Cordelia fight the good fight because they know it's the right thing to do.   
  
I don't know too many people who would willingly risk death every other day, just because they know it's the right thing to do.  
  
But most of all, I want to be friends with Faith.  
  
I walk back to my desk, and rifle through the files in my drawer to find the one I'm looking for. As I tuck it under my arm, I use my other hand to grab the bakery bag and my tape recorder. Then I turn and walk to the door that leads to the holding cells, pulling out my keys as I do. I slip the correct key into the lock and turn it as I try to juggle the items in my hands to help me accommodate opening the door.  
  
Peeking over my shoulder discreetly, I give silent thanks to whatever Gods are out there that none of my colleagues have noticed me. With a quiet sigh of relief, I close the door behind me with a soft *thunk*.  
  
I turn around and face the corridor, taking a deep breath as I do, and another wave of nervousness hits me. I mean, honestly. What the Hell do I think I'm doing? This girl probably doesn't even like me. She probably has no desire to see me again. She'll take one look at me and laugh in my face. She'll see the breakfast I bought her, and immediately think 'freak'....but....  
  
I remember the way she latched onto my finger this morning. The softness in her voice  
when she thanked me for listening. The obsidian depths of her eyes and the look they held as she settled them on me.  
  
And I know I'm not crazy.   
  
Whatever is going on between the two of us that's drawing me closer to her like a fly wrapped up in a spiders web, is not going to go away. And it's not one-sided.  
  
I know the whispers that carry in the air behind my back. "Lockley's gone loony," "She only answers the monkey calls now," "She should be packing a ouija board, not a gun," and each quiet barb is followed by a snicker and a knowing look. They think I've gone right off the deep end, tracking shadows when the only thing I find is myself at the end of the trail.  
  
They don't know what I live with. They don't know the innocence I've lost that they still have the luxury of calling their own.   
  
They don't have to live with the knowledge that monsters don't just live in nightmares anymore. They're very real, and they rule the underworld and walk the street in the dead of night. And they're evil, and they kill, and so help you if you get caught, a quick death will be the best gift God could ever give you.   
  
Because if you live longer, if you're granted the chance to have your heart beat for a few extra hours or days, you never die with your sanity intact. You see too much. Your entire belief system is shattered and crushed. And the demons that get you aren't interested in explaining the things you don't know, didn't even know, never even thought existed....   
  
And Angel is living (unliving?) proof that I'm not a nutcase. Unbreathing, face-changing, supernatural power holding, proof.  
  
And knowing all this helps reinforce the knowledge that I'm not crazy. There's something between Faith and I which isn't lying. And I finally pull myself out of my negative thoughts and square my shoulders, walking as calmly as I can down the sterile corridor.  
  
As I draw closer, a sheen of excitement starts to course under my skin, running through my veins and ending in tingles in the extremities of my body, pulsing with life, with the rhythm of my blood, as it pounds away buried deep underneath layers of muscle and tissue that hold my body up and keep me walking.   
  
I reach Faith's cell with a look of determination on my face. She's sitting on the cot, her legs tucked under herself and her blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she stares at the tiny window in the corner. The barest amount of sunlight is filtering through, but she seems to relish it. Her chest is rising and falling evenly again, as though she's sleeping, but she's just breathing normally, taking in the little bit of scenery this tiny cell has to offer.   
  
I can't be sure, but there's an air of tension in the cell. And I don't know how that could be because she's been alone in here since I left, but I can still feel it. Some of my determination falters as I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I shiver.   
  
She pulls her gaze away from the light and turns towards me when I stop in front of her cell, and I'm almost sure a smile ghosts over her face before it disappears.  
  
Almost.  
  
She looks at me with big, brown eyes, and the small amount of sunlight glints in them, making quicksilver shadows dance in the chocolate depths. Her face is pale and drawn, blackness mars the skin beneath her eyes, and I *know* it didn't look like this last night. Her lips are dry, even from this distance I can see that, and they look as though they're going to start to crack any moment.  
  
Something's going on here, and I don't know what it is, but my hackles have been well and truly raised.  
  
A smile suddenly spreads over her features, and only years of working with criminals and deciphering their every move lets me realise with a sinking feeling that her smile is fake.   
  
"Kate."  
  
I nod my head at her, fingers clutching spasmodically at the items in my hands.   
  
"Faith. Good morning."  
  
Another fake smile rises to the surface, but this time, it's easier to see the cracks in the facade. A feeling of wariness spreads through me, and I instinctively turn my head to look over my shoulder.   
  
Nothing's there. I didn't expect there to be, but then again, some things are ingrained.   
  
After what started out being a most promising day, I know deep in my gut things have taken a turn for the worse. There's something wrong here. So unbelievably wrong. But what? Trying to figure that out though is like a mouse trying to nibble its way out of a concrete cell.  
  
Impossible.  
  
Faith looks back towards the tiny window, smile still in place.  
  
"Looks like a nice day out there."  
  
Filler conversation. I'm an expert at it and can sniff it out from a mile away. But I don't know what else to say at the moment, so I go along with it.  
  
"It is. A little cold, but still nice."  
  
She nods her head, and the smile slowly drops away, leaving her face blank. A few moments pass, then she turns to me with a soft sigh.  
  
"What is it Kate?"  
  
I decide to go with the truth. There's no harm in it. And maybe the normalcy of breakfast will lift some of the dead mood hanging around the cell. It's stifling, and I can't imagine what it would be like living in here permanently with that hanging over your head. Or at least, semi-permanently, because Faith should be transferred out of here soon.  
  
I pull the bakery bag out from between her file and the tape recorder, and wave it in the air. "I thought you might want some breakfast. Real stuff; not the stuff you get in here."  
  
Her eyes light up for a moment and my heart quickens at the sight, then her face goes blank again and she only nods. When she speaks again, her voice is a whisper.  
  
"You don't have to do this Kate."  
  
My throat works for a moment though no sound comes out, then I gain control of my vocal skills again, and my voice comes out sounding firmer than I feel.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous Faith. I want to."  
  
Some of the fire I know resides there suddenly flares to life in her eyes, and she throws the blanket aside as she practically leaps off the cot and takes a powerful stride towards me. She's almost hissing as she stares me down.  
  
"Why? Why do you want to Kate? I'm a killer, I told you so myself. I'm worthless! Nothing! Not even good enough to go out with a bang. Instead I'm stuck in here, surrounded by bars, and tiny windows, and my thoughts...." Her voice catches slightly and some of the fire dies in her eyes. "....and dreams...."  
  
She spins around suddenly, and pounds on the wall in frustration with her fists. Through the haze of sunlight, I can see tiny stone dust particles explode in a small shower and float down to settle on the ground. I watch her in shock as she rests her forearms on the wall and leans her head against them, and her back starts to shudder ever so slightly.  
  
Oh no. No way is she crying. I didn't even know this girl could cry, let alone cry over something like....well....whatever this is. A feeling of wrongness seeps through me, almost like poison, as I watch her try to hide what she's doing. I have to stop her. This isn't right. She shouldn't be crying. This girl wasn't built for tears.  
  
Protective feelings rush through me, and I walk slowly down the bars to where she's standing until I'm directly in front of her.   
  
"Faith?"  
  
She ignores me.  
  
"Faith, please. Look at me."  
  
Her body stiffens for a moment, then stills. I watch helplessly, waiting to see what she'll do next, if she'll even acknowledge me. Minutes tick by slowly, and she finally straightens, pushing herself away from the wall. She stares down at the ground as she slowly turns to me.   
  
I want to reach through the bars and tilt her chin up, wipe away tear tracks that I know she's disgusted at having, but I don't. I wait to see what she'll do.  
  
She finally looks up and her eyes lock with mine, quicksilver shadows dancing wildly in echo of the dancing sunlight. Her stare catches me off guard, and I feel like the layers of my soul are being stripped away, leaving me unprotected, unguarded. Open to attack.   
  
When she speaks, her voice is rough and distant.  
  
"Leave Kate. I don't need this right now."  
  
Stubbornness keeps me where I am, and I lift the bakery bag and shove it through the bars, in reach of her hands.  
  
"Yes you do. Everyone needs breakfast."  
  
I purposely misunderstand what she's saying and blithely continue, not pointing out the fact that I know she was crying, even though she must know I realised. I see the gratefulness in her eyes as I keep talking, giving her the chance to properly regroup.  
  
"Anyway, you have to keep your strength up. God knows these cells weren't built for comfort. And you never know, you may get visitors today. You don't want to see them on an empty stomach now do you?"  
  
I push the bag further towards her hands.  
  
"Eat. Once in a lifetime opportunity for fresh bakery goods delivered by me."  
  
I wave it tantalisingly around so you can start to smell the scent of warm baked pastry.  
  
She stares at the bag in my hand, and after a moment, shakes her head ever so slightly as a tiny smile forms on her face.   
  
"You're not gonna go any other way are you?"  
  
I grin as some of my wariness melts away.  
  
"Nope. I'm a hard nose cop, you know. I can stand here for hours and wait."  
  
She shakes her head again as her smile grows an infinitesimal amount wider. Then she slowly reaches forward and takes the bag.  
  
The rest of my wariness melts away as she looks up. The expression in her eyes is soft and warm and I can honestly feel some of my insides melting.  
  
I point towards the bag in her hands.   
  
"Look inside."  
  
She shakes her head again as though she can't believe what's happening, then she carefully opens it and peers inside. Her jaw drops as she takes in the amount of food I bought.  
  
"There is no *way* I'm gonna finish all this!"  
  
I chuckle quietly at the look on her face.  
  
"Well, I was kinda hoping we could share. I haven't had breakfast yet either."  
  
Her head shoots up to look at me in surprise, then her features soften slightly. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles for real this time, and a flush of warmth runs through my body, moving from my chest outward. She looks like a shy young girl right now, with her face stripped of the makeup I have a feeling was acting as her armor. She doesn't say anything. All she can do is nod silently as she extends the open bag towards me.  
  
I smile back at her as I reach in and take out a croissant. Then I suddenly remember the file and tape recorder under my arm.  
  
"Oh. We can go out....I mean, we can do this out of your cell if you want."  
  
She studies me curiously as she reaches in and takes out a blueberry danish.  
  
"Out of my cell? Where would we go?"  
  
I take a bite and chew thoughtfully, then swallow.  
  
"We can go to one of the interview rooms. I need to discuss a few matters with you anyway. We can just take this stuff with us."  
  
She nods her head in acquiescence as she finishes chewing on the bite she took.  
  
I pull my keys out of my pocket with my free hand, and find the correct one for Faith's cell. I stick it in the lock with a little fumbling, trying to juggle my croissant and tape recorder, which are both threatening to fall to the ground. Finally, I shove the croissant between my teeth and turn the key. I pull open the cell door as Faith waits patiently on the other side, bakery bag clutched tight in one hand, danish almost finished in the other.  
  
She swallows another bite again as she walks out and I close the door behind her, then she turns to me with a curious expression on her face.  
  
"Aren't ya gonna cuff me?"  
  
I look at her as I take the croissant out of my mouth, momentarily startled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, anytime I get taken out of here someone always cuffs me. How come you aren't doing that?"  
  
I watch her as I start to walk and she keeps pace next to me, her stride long and graceful.  
  
"Do you want me to cuff you?"  
  
She looks at the danish in her hand as we keep walking.  
  
"But my opinion doesn't count. It's cop protocol right? Why aren't you cuffing me? I'm dangerous."  
  
I'm in the middle of chewing when she says that, and I almost choke as a wave of laughter catches me.  
  
She whips her head up from studying the last part of her danish, and looks at me in shock.  
  
I swallow quickly as I get myself under control, then stop in front of one of the interview rooms.  
  
"Um....sorry. Forget I just did that."  
  
She shrugs as she looks in the little window.  
  
"Already done; but answer my question."  
  
I stare through the window as well as I answer as honestly as I can. I laughed at her after all. She deserves this.   
  
"Because I....I didn't want to. I know you're dangerous Faith, but I feel like I can....trust you. And I know you wouldn't try anything." It's my turn to shrug my shoulders now. "So I didn't."  
  
She lets out a breath, then pops the last of the danish in her mouth and gives a slight nod with her head.  
  
"Cool."  
  
We stand side by side for a minute, then I unlock the door and herd her in, pulling the door shut behind us. I motion her into a plastic chair on one side of the table, and as she's getting comfortable, I slide into the chair opposite her, dropping the file and tape recorder on the desk in front of me.  
  
As I fiddle with my ponytail, trying to tuck a few stray strands away, Faith reaches into the bakery bag and pulls out a croissant. She takes a bite as she taps her finger on the file in front of me. When she swallows she looks up curiously.  
  
"Is this baby mine?"  
  
I finish fixing my hair, as satisfied with it as I'm every going to be. "Mm-hmm."  
  
She props her elbows up on the table, taking another bite of her croissant as she does. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as I pull the file towards me and open it up to the proper section. Before I start talking though, I grab hold of the bakery bag and pull out a custard danish.  
  
I wriggle in my seat again to get a bit more comfortable as Faith gets up and swings her chair around, seeming infinitely more at home as she then straddles it and props her elbows up on the table again, popping the last of the croissant in her mouth.  
  
"So, what's the deal? What matters did you wanna discuss?"  
  
I take a deep breath, then flip through the open file until I find the sheaf of papers I'm looking for. "Your court date actually. The papers were just faxed over yesterday afternoon from the Supreme Court secretary."  
  
I hazard a glance upwards, only to find Faith staring into space, an expression on her face that I'm not able to decipher. I don't say anything. Wherever she's gone, I know she'll be back soon. I have a feeling she needs this time. I wait quietly for her to start talking again, and while I do, I eat the danish. I lick my fingers enthusiastically when I finish. Delicious. It has been much too long since I've had a good pastry for breakfast.   
  
I'm actually so caught up in my reminiscing about baked goods, that I completely miss Faith coming back to earth.  
  
"When you kill someone, your brain isn't really in the now, you know? You're moving and you're acting and you're playing God with people's lives, but you're detached. And that's so weird, because at the same time, you're alive with jittery energy, and your senses have gone into overload, and you can probably categorise every single sight and sound and touch you ever made or felt that day. And the power. You can feel the power, and its heady, but at the same time, you don't really *feel* it. Then maybe a day later, a week later, a month later, it finally catches up, and after what seemed so exhilarating, you're left thinking, what the hell did I do? It was kinda like that for me."  
  
She breaks off abruptly and stares at the table, unwilling to move her gaze anywhere else, and I'm frozen as I listen to what she's saying; torn between revulsion that she's detailing her murders to me, and torn between elation because this is such an intimate thing, and she trusts me enough to share it, to share her memories, things I know she holds sacred above everything else in her life.   
  
"Out of everyone I screwed over, there's this one guy that stands out. He was some professor dude, and I remember the Boss sending me off to kill him, because the guy had knowledge that could possibly kill the Boss when he turned into a snake. And I turned up on this guy's doorstep, holding this huge knife the Boss had given me as a present, brimming with confidence and arrogance and....he needed me. This was something he couldn't do himself, and he loved me and he needed me. He....he loved me, you know? How could I say no when he treated me so well and he took care of me and he....cared."   
  
She was almost whispering now, and I remained frozen, part of me fiercely wishing she'd stop before I was sick, and the other part aching for her pain. It had become a palpable thing in the room; you could almost reach out and touch it.   
  
"He was the one guy who'd never done anything wrong, you know? The one truly innocent in the crowd. I knocked on the door to his apartment, and he opened it and invited me in, and....I remember looking around, and there were books everywhere. This guy's life, was his books. He probably hadn't had a wife or a girlfriend or even gotten any in so long because he was so caught up and in love with his fucking books...."  
  
"But I didn't care. I wasn't thinking straight. My brain was on a long holiday and I had energy flowing out of all my pores, and I had no idea what to do with it and no brain helping me out. I just had the Boss' words trailing through me and his knife in my hand, and the blade was so sharp and so purely death...."  
  
"I couldn't even let him die in peace. I couldn't make it quick, grant him his one silent request. I had to take out all my frustrations on him. I had to make him hurt for all the wrong things done to me and all the wrongs I'd done myself."  
  
"And it was almost right after that that I got stuck in a coma. I never really had the chance to grieve over what I did to that guy. To wonder what I'd been doing, what I'd been thinking, how I could stop myself from doing it again, because I wanted out. I....I wanted out, I really did Kate, I wanted out...."   
  
Her voice trails off and she's looking at me with wild eyes, desperate for some sign of understanding, for some sign of humanity towards her. She wants me to care, for the people she's killed, for her, I don't know. All I can do is work my throat like an idiot and pray I don't say something I'll regret.  
  
After a few more moments, its obvious she hasn't found what was looking for though, because she takes a deep breath, like she's pulling herself together again, and turns away. When she speaks, her voice is rough and strained. The voice of someone who's lived too long, seen too much, fought too many battles and didn't always win. Someone who's been trapped and screaming for so long, and is just barely holding on to the last thread of their sanity.  
  
"But now....brain's caught up again...."  
  
She's going to bolt, I can sense it. The tension in the air has risen volumes, and I know if I don't do something fast I'm....Angel....the good side....we're all going to lose her. Without even thinking, my hand shoots out and grabs hold of hers.  
  
She looks at me startled, her eyes wide and so brown, swirling with emotions she didn't have time to trap before I touched her. She looks like she's going to say something, but I silence her by reaching over with my other hand, and cradling her cheek in my palm. A brief thought flashes through my mind, and I somehow manage to grab hold of it and make sense of it, before it too whirls away out of reach.  
  
//Instinct is the only thing we really and truly have. We must trust it to guide us. It never lets us down. It never leads us wrong. But first, we must accept it.//  
  
Another piece of my father's advice. Tears well up in my eyes, and I stop them from falling through sheer force of will. God dad, I really miss you. Of course, he'd been talking to his little girl about being a cop. Not about how to save the soul of a terrified Slayer turned murderer who's somehow forged a connection with me. One I can't give up, and am not really sure I even want to give up.  
  
She leans unconsciously into my hand, bringing my mind back to the present, and then suddenly she's crying. Sobbing her heart out on the table and not even trying to hide it. Tears stream from her beautiful eyes and down over her pale cheeks, and her body shakes as she struggles to not break under the onslaught. Acting on the instinct my father nurtured, I jump up from where I'm sitting and round the table quickly, grabbing hold of Faith's shoulders and twisting her slightly to face me. Then I'm hugging her tightly, stroking a hand over her hair, whispering soothing words into her ear and willing my heart to stop breaking.   
  
With her, for her, because of her....I don't even know anymore.  
  
And when she reaches up after a few minutes and hugs me back, so tight I'm afraid she'll crush me, it does a bit, and I continue to pacify her as I hold her trembling body in my arms, and her wounded soul in my heart.  
  
It seems like it's hours later when she finally finishes crying. When the hiccups finally stop and disappear, and the trembles subside until her body is calm again. I continue to hold her for a few moments, then gently pull back. Her arms drop from my sides, and it's like a rush of cool air suddenly engulfs me. I'm about to let her go, but before I do, I hold her at arms length for a moment and study her quietly.  
  
Her cheeks are coated in a layer of tears, dry and fresh, new paths carved into old. Her eyelashes are stuck together and wet, making her eyes seem even wider than normal. There's no sun, but I can still catch traces of quicksilver floating in her brown eyes, flowing down in her tears. Her cheeks have gone a light pink from the strain of gasping and crying for so long. Some of her dark hair has fallen over her face, and without thinking, I raise a hand and push it back, settling the strand over her ear again, where it belongs.   
  
Then she blinks and I pull away. I've done my part now. I kept her heart safe. The rest is up to her now. I don't know what she wants to do. I don't really even know what brought this on. But the next step is hers.  
  
I move back to my seat as she reaches up with hands that only tremble the slightest bit, and wipes the already dry and drying tears away from her face.  
  
Her voice is husky when she speaks, a little raw, but there's a slightly lighter note to it, and I stifle the urge to grin wildly. I may have just stopped her from running, but this isn't the first time, and it isn't going to be the last.   
  
"So the court date. When is it?"  
  
I blink and focus again, looking down at the file to double check.  
  
"It's on Monday. Two days."  
  
She runs her hands through her hair and blinks rapidly.  
  
"Okay then."  
  
I know she isn't going to continue, and I want to leave it at that, but at the same time, I know I have to get her to keep talking. I don't even know if she has a lawyer yet.  
  
"Faith, we need to discuss a law--"  
  
She cuts me off quickly.  
  
"Not right now Kate. I don't wanna talk about this. I....can't. Not now."  
  
I have to let it go, so I do. I nod silently, then shuffle the papers together, push them into the folder and close it.   
  
"Okay Faith. This is your call."  
  
I stand up, knowing my time with her is over and the real world has to come back into being now. I pick up the folder and tape recorder which was never used, as she gets up and swings her chair around, tucking it back under the table the way she found it. She starts to walk towards the door and I begin to follow, but then I remember something. I turn back quickly and walk over to the table, then snatch up the bakery bag. There's still two or three things in there I know Faith will like more than I will.   
  
As I walk back to the door I push it in her hands.  
  
She's about to start protesting but I silence her with a look. Then I open the door and close it behind her as we start to make our way down the corridor. As we reach the door to her cell, she stands back and I open it for her, and she wordlessly walks inside, bakery bag still clutched tight in her hands.  
  
The door closes with a reverberating *clang* as it swings shut, and I click the lock back into place. More for appearances though, because Faith is the only one who's keeping Faith in her cell.  
  
I watch her for a moment on one side of the bars, and she watches me from the other side. Suddenly, the bars aren't bars at all. They're a chasm so big, so wide, I don't know why I even think I can cross it. But I know deep inside I can. And as I watch her stand in the sunlight, her hair glinting slightly and her eyes flickering with quicksilver beams, I know it's worth it.   
  
She's worth it.  
  
I smile softly at her, resting one hand on the cool bars as I do, and she smiles back, her grip on the bakery bag lessening. We're both tentative. More has just happened between us than either of us can grasp right now. And as I take back my hand and take a step backwards, nod my head at her and say, "Faith," I don't say good-bye.   
  
Because this isn't the last time. I know I'll be seeing her again. And I *know* she knows it, just as I do....  
  
And you know what?  
  
I'm looking forward to it.  
  
  
End.  



End file.
